


The Test of Humanity: Becoming Mortal

by oO_Nyx_Oo



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Fae Magic, Physical Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oO_Nyx_Oo/pseuds/oO_Nyx_Oo
Summary: Jareth agrees to be turned mortal by his father to court Sarah in the mortal realm. The problem is Sarah's memories of Jareth have been taken and fae law dictates his memories must be taken too. An additional scene to chapter 1 of gooseberry4613's fabulous fanfic "The Test of Humanity". It can be read on it's own somewhat but why not just read ch1 first anyway? No spoilers.
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Kudos: 4





	The Test of Humanity: Becoming Mortal

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Test of Humanity](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/651586) by gooseberry4613. 
  * Inspired by [The Test of Humanity](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/651625) by gooseberry4613. 



> "The Test of Humanity: Becoming Mortal"
> 
> Jareth agrees to be turned mortal by his father to court Sarah in the mortal realm. The problem is Sarah's memories of Jareth have been taken and fae law dictates his memories must be taken too. An additional scene to chapter 1 of gooseberry4613's fabulous fanfic "The Test of Humanity" This can be read on it's own somewhat but why not just read ch1 first anyway? No spoilers.
> 
> Link to the original fanfic here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9346687/1/The-Test-of-Humanity

**Ending exert from chapter 1**

…

_"_ _Do you accept my offer? Will you court her in the mortal realm?"_

_Jareth knew there was only one answer he could give. His eyes met his father's as he responded,_

_"_ _Yes."_

* * *

**Chapter 1.5: Becoming Mortal**

Oberon's lips curved in a brief smile and he gestured from where they had come;

"Shall we step back into your throne room?" he asked in a business-like tone.

Jareth lifted his head in a slow nod and they returned. Neither sat.

Deep thoughts spun around Jareths mind. For years he thought nothing could be done in regards to Sarah. And yet _here_ was a chance. A small one, but it was a chance nonetheless. A _final_ chance for him and..for her… Which raised a pressing question,

"How do you intend to do this exactly?" he asked.

"Well.." pondered Oberon deciding how best to explain… "I'll keep it simple. Your power and immortality will go first, then your memories last." Jareth scoffed but Oberon continued. "This is the way it has _always_ been done, Jareth."

"Of course it would be in that order." replied Jareth bitterly. _Such things were never easy._

"You… disagree?" Oberon's eyes were wide.

"Would it matter if I did?"

"No." concluded Oberon.

Jareth sneered.

The magic will force him to relish in the danger of his decision before falling into that blissful dream of mortal ignorance. Not something he was particularly keen for. For a long moment he would essentially become a fae trapped in a human body…until his memories were washed away, that was. And being temporarily aware of this situation as such a pathetic creature was going to be the worst (he decided).

If his father secretly preferred this method it surprised Jareth _so little_. It was clear - in his mind at least - that whilst his father would assist in this endeavour, it didn't mean the fae actually _wanted_ too. If there was any chance whereby Jareth could _change his mind_ Oberon would take it _._ And that short window between loss of power and memory was a big one. A time when Jareth would be at his weakest. And he knew his father was always one for teaching lessons… Jareth deeply hoped his trust in the fae was well placed.

He observed his father over the sunken pit that lay between them but Oberon revealed nothing. There was certainly little point _negotiating_. Old magic was old magic. Their laws were bound to it like reality to the Aboveground. Never to be unbound. That knowledge however didn't stop Jareth to briefly wonder of what could happen if things went the other way...

There would likely be havoc of some kind. With his memories gone his feeble unknowing human mind would probably think itself quite mad upon the discovery of being a Goblin King and immortal to boot. He could see it now: his ability mixed with such… _inexperience_ … yes that _wouldn't_ work at all…he sighed.

_If my power needs to go first then so be it._

Jareth considered the fae that was his father,

"Have you ever done this before?" he asked. "Reduced a fae to… mortal beginnings?"

Oberon pondered the question.

"Well…yes," he said "a couple of times actually... However all those had been for the purposes of…. punishment… or banishment. Certainly not for something as complex as _love_."

"Such a pity." muttered Jareth sarcastically.

He really didn't need any further encouragement toward how insane this idea truly was. Or for how insane _he_ was for following it. While he was sure his future mortal-self would be totally humiliated once word spread among the fae community about his predicament (not that he would know by then anyhow), the knowledge that he would lose not one but _two_ major parts of himself certainly put a dampener on the idea.

Jareth brushed a leather sheathed finger over his lower lip in contemplation. Yes, that was most alarming indeed. And what if he didn't succeed and those parts _never_ returned…? Who was he if he was not the 'Goblin King'? Was _he_ insane? _Probably._

And for the first time he asked himself the question: _did he really want this?_

_N_ _o. Of course he didn't._

_…_ _but to be human.. like Sarah…_

Yes. For Sarah. This was totally and utterly _all for her_ ….

Who knew.. maybe - and it was a very small traitorous part of him which considered this - _maybe_ he would actually _enjoy_ it. Playing on her level as a mortal. Not pulling the strings for once. The thought made his lips twitch..

And if she _did_ slip through his grasp again, would the end result be so different? Maybe being mortal would be a blessing. He would at least be granted the option to _end_ it, if necessary. Hopefully he wouldn't need to resort to such means.

He wondered. How had it taken such a small taste of those delicious and sometimes oh so cruel green eyes to make him so.. _hooked_? Those eyes seemed to have a certain kind of power over him. One which could see him for what he _truly_ was. And one which no other could hope to come close to.

Jareth exhaled deeply.

He _needed_ her. It was the reason why his kingdom could no longer operate (regardless how much he denied it). He just _knew_ Sarah was the other part to his soul and that without her… well…he couldn't go there again. His thoughts had lingered in that place for far too long now. He was _exhausted_.

Oberon must have sensed Jareth's internal struggle because he asked,

"Shall I give you a moment? Maybe to organise some of your more _current_ affairs?"

"No." Jareth took a slow deep breath "I am ready. I have made my decision." He glared at Oberon "Now follow through with yours."

"Only if you are sure." said Oberon slowly.

"I am"

"Then…" said Oberon drawing his power "…prepare yourself."

Jareth parted his feet slightly but there was really not much else he could do. The air around both fae began to swirl and became thick with magic. Through an open balcony Jareth could see the sky darken with ominous intent. A thunderstorm was beginning to form outside the castle walls. A rumble prickled Jareth ears and it made the tiny hairs down his neck stand on end. His body tensed.

Jareth knew his father to be one of the strongest Fae in existence but having grown far from his fathers court at a young age meant there were so few times he had ever observed such power so _intimately_. And now all that infinite power was going to be directed solely on him. It was incredible but also frightening to behold.

The clouds darkened further and a strong wind gusted in through the open balcony causing the long sheer curtains framing it to flutter dramatically.

Oberon reached to hold his right fist high in the air in preparation for his first act and a surreal silence washed over them.

Both fae observed each other from either side of the sunken pit. Their hair and clothing occasionally rustling in the unearthly wind. Then…

With the decision made Oberon sucked in a deep breath, and in quick motion, carved his fist down through the air to meet the cold flagstone floor below… And when the contact was made the loudest most powerful thunderclap Jareth had ever heard boomed through the entire Labyrinth _and beyond_. The combination of sound and magic made his whole body reverberate all the way to his teeth.

At the same time the goblin armour secured around Jareth's chest split in two and fell at his feet. The force almost made him jump. Looking down he saw the hollow breastplate rock slightly on the stone floor, discarded like trash. His lips thinned. A king he was no longer.

The storm calmed slightly and then..

… _nothing_.

Jareth began to observe himself to see if there was any change. He didn't exactly _feel_ different.

"Well," he said " _that_ wasn't so bad. I do think you've rather lost your tou-"

"Jareth NO!" shouted Oberon, unrestrained fear lighting his face. And then it hit.

An invisible omnipresent force claimed Jareth and he doubled over as the power residing in his body, _his cherished immortality_ , washed away at a hurried pace. It felt like his own heart were working against him and pulsing wave after wave of magical force _out_ of his body. And he could do nothing could stop it!

As power continued to seep from his body he could see it in the air - visible to the naked eye - swirl around him in glowing white only to fade into obscurity. And it was frighteningly _beautiful_ but he had little time to appreciate it.

He gasped loudly and found himself attempting to rein his power through instinct alone but it was like trying to hold water in cupped hands. He had to keep trying though because he felt he would die if he did not.

That was until - to Jareth's complete and utter _astonishment_ \- it started to work.

Jareth could feel his power began to _stabilise_ … He could hold onto it… how was this possible…?…

And then he saw his fathers face.

It was so minute but Jareth had witnessed that look before. It occurred when his father was on the verge of winning a negotiation with a neighbouring kingdom. A twitch of his upper lip. And Jareth knew. _He knew_ he were being tested. _That bastard._

Immediately Jareth withdrew the barriers on his powerand stood firm in challenge to his father. How dare he attempt to fool Jareth? Goblin King for over a millennia. _Far_ longer than what any other fae had survived the position.

Unfortunately thwarting his father was proving to be a far greater struggle than originally assumed and Jareth's brow began to sweat in concentration. His power had always been such a close companion so inviting its removal was proving difficult.

For Jareth weakness had been an old foe whom he had battled, suppressed and avoided his entire life. So as weaknesses squeezed its unrelenting grip on Jareth's body it was with a dirty type of disgust that he felt absolutely cheated in the cruellest way possible. It took colossal amount force but he eventually managed to push and let go of such familiar comforts even though it was against nature to do so. He was rewarded for his efforts with a version of his body which shook and trembled in their departure.

Oberon observed the submission and did not look pleased.

Jareth was quick to bask in the displeasure. _Take that old man._

But whilst the small victory had proved satisfying it was very short lived.

It had been with great naivety that Jareth had expected to leave this transformation untouched by pain.

Jareth screamed. Absolutely he had screamed. But whether it had been one time or many only his father would know as a strange kind of painful delirium were overtaking Jareth, causing his ability to discern reality to melt in his hands. The world was spinning around him, echoing and looping like broken music. And there at the centre of it all was his father as conductor, mortalising him over and over again. It was unending and unyielding.

He decided that if magic or skin were being torn from his body it would made no difference. Jareth was sure both would feel the same. Thankfully it had only been the former but what remained was some sort of phantom pain which wound it's way through skin and bone and back again. And it stung.

He eventually found himself on his hands and knees on the stone floor gasping for air. A distant part of himself noted the pain must have been fierce because he couldn't even remember falling in the first place. He also had a splitting headache.

Looking down at his hands Jareth could feel the last residual drops of his power trickling away like invisible tears. It had all left his body so easily. Almost as though he had never been an immortal to begin with. Was he, or had he always truly been such a _useless_ creature? He squeezed his eyes shut. He had barely adjusted to his mortal body and it was already playing pathetic mind games on him in ways that only mortals could.

And Oberon was watching. He watched as though he hadn't just performed a rare feat of magic or as though he hadn't completely doomed his son to the brief flickering flame that was a mortal life. He had known _very well_ that the magic _which removed magic_ could not have taken hold unless Jareth let it. And if his son had _not_ been resolute there would have been no change and _that would have been that_. Oberon had held small hope this _would_ have been the case. Unfortunately it wasn't. _Such a pity…_

Upon reflection Oberon recognised that whilst his son was unequivocally selfish on occasion, Jareth did show a wisdom beyond his years which was somewhat endearing. He wished some of his other children showed such aptitude. But if Jareth wasn't successful in his new venture….. well…Oberon would certainly struggle to find a more permanent replacement for the role of Goblin King past Jareth's uncle…

He may even need to recover the role himself! Something he would sorely prefer to _avoid_ as he had enough responsibilities to be getting on with. Part of him genuinely wanted happiness for his son but absolutely not in this way. It was painful to watch his son go through such means for a simple mortal but that (he supposed) was somewhat his fault too.

"Agh," gasped Jareth. The intensity of the pain slowly passing but his body still shook terribly nonetheless. This new level of weakness which he was expected to adjust to was shocking. He _wished_ the shaking would cease because it was taking him a _mortifying_ amount of time to get back onto his feet. And he hated looking inferior.

His father did not help.

Jareth assumed this as a sign of _respect_ but it felt far more like a sign of _reject_. Normally, he wouldn't care for such things but his weakened state was making him feel… pathetically soft.

 _Gods one moment he feels inferior the next he is practically_ begging _for help. The emotion of this mortal body was maddening!_

"This act has been your choice and your choice alone." said Oberon "I cannot interfere."

"Of course not!" snarled Jareth "That would be too _convenient_ wouldn't it? And I suppose I should be _thanking_ you for that extra little surprise you threw in there too? You didn't think it prudent to mention anything to me _beforehand_?"

"I had to ensure you were committed."said Oberon simply.

 _Bastard_ thought Jareth. He suppressed a grunt as he reached out for the curved ivory arm of his throne to help him stand. But the object burned like flames through his leather gloves causing him fall to the floor again with a hiss.

"Aghha!" Jareth rolled on the floor, cradling his hand while almost laughing in his pain. Even his throne had rejected him. _How quaint_.

His fathers expression looked concerned.

And it irritated Jareth to no end.

"I am _fine!"_ snapped Jareth. _Gods he had never felt so weak in his life._

Oberon didn't look convinced.

A few very awkward minuets passed until the pain _finally_ began to dissipate leaving Jareth's body to adjust to its new and _very mortal_ roots. He eventually mustered enough strength to stand on his own two feet ….but almost stumbled _again_ (to his complete and utter horror).

The weight of Oberon's gaze fell on Jareth but all he could sense from the fae (and he had already noted how _limited_ those abilities had become with no magic) was pity.

It made Jareth angry and his eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" he growled "don't like what you see?"

"You are human." observed Orebon.

" _That_ part is obvious!" sneered Jareth. His voice rang through the vast hall.

He sharply kicked his broken armour into the throne rooms pit and it landed with a metallic clang that echoed around them.

"I am sorry." commented Oberon "It is just that I have never witnessed one of our kind become so…"

"So.. _what?"_ snapped Jareth "Weak? Pathetic? Incapable?! I am sorry to to find this must be so difficult for you, _sire_!" he all but spat.

Whatever amount of control Jareth had maintained as an immortal (and he would have deemed that quite high) was rapidly falling into complete shambles at his feet. He now possessed a huge open window into the human psyche and it was impossible to close. He refused to feed into it but feed into it he did. It was no wonder mortals could be so destructive to themselves as they were to others. Such destruction caused by such small beginnings…

Oberon raised an eyebrow.

"I was going to say _emotional_." said Oberon. "the change in you is quite remarkable."

"My mental abilities" said Jareth as carefully as he could muster. "are none of your concern. I am.. fine."

"You say that so much."chortled Oberon. "I do wonder what your ba-"

"Just..keep going.." Jareth finished lamely. _What in hells name was he doing to himself?_

"If that is what you wish…"

Jareth was about to snap " _it is!_ " but thankfully he had managed to find some semblance of control left in his weakened state. _At last._ Or maybe it was simply exhaustion starting to catch up with him. How revolting.

"Well," said Oberon "Now that the _hard part_ is over," he chose to ignore Jareth's glare of pure venom which begged to differ. "I do think we should now work on changing some other aspects of yourself before finally stripping your memory. Please try to relax."

Before Jareth could protest a full length mirror was conjured right in front of him. It was long and oval with a silver frame which curled and danced around the mirrors edge like falling metallic petals. Oberon's left hand then began the transformation process. It circled in an almost lazy motion with his fingers moving occasionally as though playing to a song of which only Oberon could hear.

And as his fathers magic washed over him (feeling far more gentle than his earlier encounter) it was with slight shock Jareth noticed he could no longer sense but could _taste_ the magic in the air. A slight metallic tang pricked his tongue and left it feeling rather bitter as though magic were now a foreign substance to his mortal body. Is this how the Labyrinth had felt for Sarah? Or for any mortal for that matter?

Oberon nudged his head toward the ornate mirror in a silent gesture for Jareth to watch while he continued to channel the transformation. Jareth begrudgingly looked into its depths to see himself as he was:

A mortal human.

He felt repulsed and yet also a slight odd fascination. His hair had lost a bit of its usual luster. And his skin had a dull sheen all over it. He looked exhausted in some ways. And not like himself in many others. He had never thought he would see himself as something so _powerless_. However the part he was struggling with most was his ability to focus. _That_ _ability_ had narrowed considerably. And it was shocking. How had these mortals even _survived_?

 _These things will not matter for long_. He thought. _I will find Sarah._

"You will also be with your own kind." advised Oberon.

_Stop reading my thoughts old man._

"I am sorry." said Oberon "It is much easier to read them now with your somewhat… _primitive_ mind…"

Jareth growled and squeezed his hands into fists, his leather gloves sounding like ropes being pulled taught.

"In some ways"continued Oberon undeterred "I am actually finding it rather difficult to ignore you. Your thoughts are… so loud."

"Is that so?" said Jareth between clenched teeth.

Before anger could best him again he attempted to shield such thoughts but found with increasing shock he could not. So he tried not to think… to feel… but found that those things.. his mortal body simply wouldn't allow him to do so. His breathing hitched.

Distantly he began to sense he were on the edges of panic. Or maybe he was well past that point? Honestly, how do these mortals even function? It was an _enigma_.

"Careful now." observed Oberon "You are now beginning to insult those who you will soon call your _brothers in arms_."

"You are enjoying this far too much." grumbled Jareth.

"Or am I simply trying to make light of a difficult situation?" said Oberon, his shoulders shrugged "You decide."

Jareth tried to ignore his fathers comments (which were becoming far too honest for his liking) and returned to his reflection in the mirror.

Already he could see his own eyes were now… softer? The accent around them had _faded_ entirely and two very human - but still mismatched eyes - stared back at him. The change made him look questioningly to his father once again;

"Whilst you are one of them, you will need to look like them too." Oberon stated.

 _Naturally_ ,thought Jareth. How strange it was to see his eyes so unblemished. He no longer looked … dangerous or … untamed… just….. _average_.

His father continued the transformation and Jareth witnessed his once long hair begin to recede and become considerably… _neater_. The new length halted just above his eyebrows and around his ears, framing his face just so. It was manicured rather plainly and lay somewhat flat but it had also been styled to show a hint of mess or _flair_ (it really depended on who you asked).

The changes continued down his body and what was left of the garments of the Goblin King morphed into a crisp clean white button-up shirt with pale blue jeans, fastened with a black leather belt and silver buckle. His new clothes fit him with a causal elegance. Firm but with just a little give in the right places. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled halfway up his arms and his leather gloves had completely disappeared leaving his rather pale but masculine hands exposed. It felt odd to be rid of them.

The few buttons near the top of his shirt were undone and exposed him further. His metallic pendant had all but gone but what remained were a pair of black curved sunglasses which hung low from the middle of his shirt. A final small tingle around his feet alerted him that his black leather boots had also now morphed into a pair of simple white trainers. He smirked while twisting his feet around to inspect himself. How utterly human. For Sarah it was worth it.

He slowly (and a bit reluctantly) moved closer the mirror to really take in his new appearance. It felt strange to walk in such different garments but he felt… comfortable… at least on a physical level. Maybe it was his now-mortal brain going a bit loopy but he began to chuckle like this was some kind of joke.

What was the word? Ah yes. _Crazy_. He was definitively and absolutely going goblin-shit crazy. Possibly mad even. _Oh dear…_ He was actually beginning to laugh quite hysterically now… _oh deary deary dear.._.

He calmed a little to see the handsome mortal in the mirror that was himself and noticed he had a rather charming smile. How strange that it was _his_. It made him laugh further.

And then, quite unexpectedly, new memories began to assault his senses. The prickle of such foreign information almost made him recoil from his father. As though he had been violated in some way.

"What?" asked Oberon, his magic pausing.

"You didn't think to alert me of when you were about to tamper with my mind?"

"Oh I'm not changing _much_." said Oberon, his tone casual. "Just _modifying_. You're human, it won't bother you soon enough,"

Jareth just stared.

Oberon just smiled.

"I hope you realise," said Jareth, and began to point accusatory finger at his father. "that just because I'm human _for now_ doesn't mean I am someone's plaything to be tampered with." he folded his arms "Once I do join the mortal realm, and I assume that will be _very_ soon, I don't expect you - or any fae for that matter - to have such power over me."

"Said like a true human."

Jareth grumbled quietly, took a deep breath and began to pinch the bridge of his nose in quiet contemplation. Honestly, what was the point any more? He was so powerless now….

Oberon resumed and in his minds eye Jareth could see the beginnings of his new life being constructed around the thirty-ish years he had "lived" in the Aboveground. It was a far cry from his 1,300 immortal years as a fae but he supposed it was a start.

He saw that he now had a home.. a job… a car…. which he knew how to drive… dangerously of course. His father knew him only so well (in some ways at least).

"Jareth _King_ " Observed Jareth attempting to abate his laughter. "This is the new title you give me? How _appropriate_ of you."

"I rather thought so." said Oberon with a thin smile.

More memories joined his new ones and Jareth began to sense his time was running out.

He watched his father, in all his fae king finery and really tried to take in this final image even though he would soon forget it.

And it was in that moment he realised that he would miss this. One of the great joys in his life was _being_ Goblin King. Whilst that responsibility had been thrust on him, he had made the role his and his alone. It was why he could not fail. This would not be his end. He would not let it.

"Will you be watching?" asked Jareth.

"I will be keeping tabs."

"What, so you can tell all your freaky fae friends? " said Jareth, lips curved slightly. "Is immortality truly so drab?" Oh gods. Now he was starting to sound like one of _them_. How could his impulse control have plummeted to such depths? How repulsively these new human memories were effecting him so.

Remarkably Oberon smiled. And Jareth even caught himself offering a small smile in return (to his mild displeasure).

"Will I be seeing you again any time soon then?"

"When the time is right." said Oberon….then… "I think it is now the time for farewell..."

And Jareth sought his fathers eyes and realised… this was indeed _it_. He was going to forget. _Everything_.

Part of him (probably the ignorant stupid mortal side) didn't think it would happen so soon. Surely there was more to be done first. _His uncle…_

"It will all be taken care of, Jareth." said Oberon quietly. "Better to fight and fall than live without hope. All the best, my son."

And as a quiet kind of panic began to take its hold upon Jareth he felt a slight pull toward the mortal realm. His time was up. He _should_ be terrified. But whatever bubbled near the surface moments earlier was subsiding and his eyes became heavy. Probably his fathers doing he briefly wondered…

And so it was with little fear or panic he accepted he would soon forget this life and the man standing before him. Or at very least, the way he _knew_ this man. All ties to the Underground, to his world _would be void_. Possibly forever.

Maybe his father would continue to be as a father in his new life… yes… he would.. Jareth could see the memory now… it was a small and strange comfort.. as he had never really spent much time with the man to begin with...

_..for Sarah…_

More new memories grew… and then other things he had always known began to fade…Where was he? In the Goblin Kings castle… the memory was still there but it was slipping… he could no longer remember… just who was the Goblin King?

_…_ _This is for Sarah…_

_…_ what was this castle? The architecture was strange but he found himself rather attracted it….such a strange place to live…. What was his father doing here? This was truly a strange place... there was an incredible maze outside… he had always been quite fond of mazes…

_…_ _This was all for Sarah…_

…Who was this man? And why was he staring at Jareth so?…. Jareth was laughing but he didn't know why …This man had such sorrow on his face… and dressed so strangely..

… _For Sarah.._

…maybe now was not the time to laugh..he had reports to go through…. what was this place?…he couldn't be here, he had to get to work early tomorrow… that strange man…Why…?

… _All for Sarah….._

Sarah? Who was Sarah? Why was everything spinning?

_…_ _All for…_

_…_ Who was that girl with the dark hair… spinning and bright…. Green eyes… still spinning…Green… _All for…S…_

* * *

Jareth _King_ sat up in bed gasping.

A shaky hand combed through his hair and it felt it slick with sweat.

What had been that… dream? Nightmare?

There had been a man who wasn't entirely a man but something else… his father… but not _his_ father…

… Jareth had been.. yearning for someone…

…something was tickling his cheeks… tears.. so many.. they were still coming… but he couldn't control them...

…A glass of water on his bedside table. He gulped it down hurriedly and even wiped some across his face in an effort to wash the tears away. His bed sheet acted as a good make shift towel to dry his face. The high thread count soothing on his skin.. It took a few more moments to settle his breathing.

Whatever that - for lack of a better word - _vision_ was, it had felt all too real. Like it had actually happened once.. a long time ago… or not long at all.. Something had woken him but he couldn't quite place it.

He checked his bedside clock which read 13:00am. No wait - he checked again - 1:01am. He had been seeing things.

He rested his head on the soft pillow…

Something _had_ woken him. _The transition of being here?_ No, it was the stress of those reports. He needed to get them done. He still needed his rest. He was _exhausted_. He had a splitting headache. Hopefully sleep would come soon…he felt so terribly weak…

Through his life he had flashes of that man in the mirror… with the wild hair and surrounded by silver petals… a man who looked like himself but wasn't entirely him either..a man who could be charming but cruel too…It hadn't been until this day that he had such a vivid clear dream like this. It was as though he had lived those moments _literally_ moments ago. As though his life previously had been an artificial life. Something fabricated. Or pretend. It made him ask the question: _just who was he?_

And then the memory of a dream began to fade … it was just a dream… just a dream… just a vague…dream….his eyes closed and sleep came and he knew no more. And by the next day all the events which happened in the night were forgotten too. Washed away like the tears which had streamed down his own face.

The only strange thing he couldn't explain was why he found himself dressed in his day clothes when he awoke. He could only assume that last night he must have gone to bed so drunk that he had actually forgotten to change before collapsing in a heap. He must have been very intoxicated because he couldn't even remember _that_. And when he strode to the bathroom to wash last nights intoxication off his body three words floated in his mind before stepping under that blissful hot water of the shower…..

_All for… nothing…_

* * *

_And there we go. I feel at peace now that I have got this down on paper. It was lots of fun to write. If you liked it please check out the entirety of this fic on gooseberry4613's account. It is an amazing ride of a story!_

_And if you have made it this far, thanks for your time!_


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